A Different Breed of Woman
by Atypicall
Summary: A new woman comes to town and makes problems for the Seven
1. Arrival

Title: A Different Breed of Woman  
Author: Atypicall (Yes, I know the spelling is wrong)  
Warnings: mild language.  
Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. Just want to use them. Don't sue me I have no money.   
Authors Note: This is my first fan fiction and no it has not been betad, so be kind. The Samantha character is mine, but feel free to use her. And thanks to whoever came up with the names of the Seven's horses.  
  
  
  
Chris Larabee's icy blue eyes swept over the main street of the little town of Four Corners. People milled all around, far more than usually frequented the Colorado town. His gaze finally rested on the colorful banner strung across the street. "I don't like it," he grumbled.  
  
"We've had this argument before Chris," Judge Travis said patiently. "The subject is no longer up to debate. You were outvoted at the last town meeting. This horse race will help commerce in Four Corners. People are coming from miles away to run their horses and watch. It's not as if I asked you to participate in the planning or actual event. Your job remains the same."  
  
"With all due respect Judge, my job is not the same. With all these new people comin' into town, I can't be sure where to look. Any one of these people could be a criminal. Not to mention," the man clad in black said dryly, "that it doesn't really look as if I'll get much help from my team."  
  
The Judge chuckled as he looked down the street. All of the other six lawmen he had hired to protect the town seemed to have been caught up in 'race fever'.  
  
  
"It ain't funny. Buck is chasin' all these new women around, certain that his 'animal magnetism' or whatever he calls it will work on fresh prey. Josiah's church has never been busier and Nate hasn't left his place in two days. JD is becoming obsessed with winning the damn thing. He hasn't taken a watch in a week. And Ezra," Larabee paused. He closed his eyes and for a moment looked as if he were in actual physical pain. "Ezra has been conditioning Chaucer since this race was announced. And he's trying to hire himself out as a coach, for a 'modest percentage of the winnings.' Not that I really expected him to be able to withstand the lure of one thousand dollars."  
  
The Judge hid his smile as best he could with his hand. IT was not usual to see Chris Larabee quite so frazzled. "And what of young Mr. Tanner?"  
  
"There are so many people in town, Vin had the good sense to pack up his wagon and take it and Peso out of town. I think he's set up camp near Lomita Ridge." Chris shook his head slowly, wondering at his best friend's sense of self-preservation.  
  
"Is he comin' back?"  
  
"Oh sure, for his turns at watch, but not for anything else. Actually, he ought be here pretty soon."  
  
"Well Chris I'll leave you alone for the time being. I think I need to meet and greet some more competitors anyway. The stage just arrived with a few horses in tow. Very good looking horses actually." Before Chris could respond, the Judge wandered away, making his way toward the stage.  
  
Chris sighed and held up his hands. "Oh no don't mind me. I just have the town's safety in mind is all." His eyes blazed and he gritted his teeth. "One more week," he muttered to himself. "Just one more week." He turned on his heel and stalked toward the Saloon.  
  
A rather sizeable crowd had gathered in front of the stage. Not that the sight of the stagecoach was anything new. It came by a few times a week. One interested the members of the crowd, were the three horses hitched to the wagon. Four people left the stage and hurried to their horses.  
  
A thin, fair-haired young man with a mustache, quickly went over to a large gray stallion. A small Hispanic followed close on his heels, but he went to the bay. Ezra, standing on the fringe of the crowd looked over all three horses with a practiced eye. The gray impressed him the most. The stallion stood well over sixteen hands, but was covered by a light sheet. He was dark, a steely dappled gray with a small, refined head and blazing eyes. He arched his muscular neck and struck out with a forefoot at the crowd. The young man placed his hand on the horse and it quieted almost immediately. He leaned over to the owner of the local bathhouse. The bathhouse owner pointed in the direction of the livery. He jogged in that direction, the short Hispanic following behind. The bay colt was not quite so impressive as the gray, but still a fine piece of horseflesh. He boasted enormous quarters and a heavily muscled body. He was short however, Ezra guessing him to be just shy of 15.2 hands.  
  
The owner of the black horse did not hurry to take him to the livery. Instead, he started talking to the crowd about his horse. "This is the horse to watch ladies and gentlemen. Thunder here has beaten some of the fastest horses in the west. Y'all might as well pack it in right now, cause you're just runnin' for second place."  
  
Ezra ignored the husky man's boasting and studied the horse. The black horse was big, almost as tall as the gray, but heavier and not so refined. His head was large with a coarseness Ezra found unappealing. He had good bone to his legs and a deep girth, but there was something off about him. He seemed disproportional, sections of himself being too large for the rest of him. He bore not a single mark of white on his entire body and Ezra could barely make out his tiny eyes. Ezra left to search out the gray's owner. He wanted a look under the sheet at perhaps the best horse to arrive in Four Corners yet.   
  
Ezra's search was rewarded outside the only hotel in town. The young man was apparently having it out with the owner of the establishment. "You're booked! Is there anyplace else in town where I can rent a room?" The man was obviously agitated, but he kept his voice low and calm. The manager of the hotel merely shrugged.  
  
"I believe that I may be able to aid in you predicament." Ezra called out. The young man turned slowly, eyeing Ezra warily. Ezra Standish would have stood out almost anywhere, but in the dusty little town, he was a beacon. Especially the young man thought, in that red jacket.  
  
"Exactly how can you help me?" The young man asked, taking a few steps closer to Ezra.  
Ezra was immediately struck by how young the man looked up close. He was perhaps 5'10'' and thin. He had large hazel eyes that reminded him of JD's, in their expression. He had sideburns and a thin mustache the color of copper. From what Ezra could see, his longish hair was the same color. The rest of his face however, was shrouded by the shadow from a plain tan hat. "Well you see sir, I am the current manager of that saloon over yonder and do, in fact, have a few spare rooms for the disposal of our race goers. Would you be interested?"  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Only a dollar a day for each. Would you like two?"  
  
"Thanks, but I'll only be needing the one. Jose, my rider, prefers to sleep with the horses."  
  
"As you like it then. Oh, and how ungracious of me to forget my manners. My name is Ezra P. Standish. And yours?"  
  
"Joseph Hunter." The man in the red jacket nodded and headed towards the saloon. Joseph noticed that the man did not offer to help carry either of his two bags, although he most definitely had seen them. With a small shrug he hefted the two bags over his shoulders and followed.  
  
"He ripping you off you know." A rich, deep voice intoned. Joseph turned to see a handsome black man leaning against a hitching rail. "Ezra'll take you for all you're worth. Those rooms of his aren't worth any dollar a night."  
  
Joseph walked over to the black man. "I know that, but I'm so sick of sleepin' on the ground I just don't care. Joseph Hunter," he held out his hand. The black man took it and shook.  
  
"Nathan Jackson, but people round here just call me Nate or Doc."  
  
"You're a doctor?" Joseph asked, surprised. "I mean, no disrespect or anything."  
  
Nate laughed. "Oh hell, I ain't no doctor, but I've picked up a few things along the way."  
  
"Good to know. I'll be seein' ya." With a quick wave, Joseph hurried after Ezra.  
  
Ezra led the way up a flight of stairs in the back of the saloon. He paused outside the last door on the aisle and opened it slowly. Inside were a small desk, a washbasin, a full-length mirror, a trunk and an unmade bed. A stream of light came through a tear in a cloth covering a chipped, dirty window. From his vantage point Joseph could see the livery down the street. Ezra dared not step into the room after the man. The room was so dusty it might as well have been outside. Instead he hung by the door. "I'll leave you to find your bearings and come back later with some linens for the bed." With that, Ezra quickly closed the door and trotted back down the stairs.  
  
ON the ground level of the Saloon, Ezra found Vin Tanner. The ex bounty hunter sat at the bar, sipping a shot of whiskey. His hat was pulled low over his eyes and his long curly hair found its way to the countertop. "Ah, Mr. Tanner. Just the man I have been searching for. I have a gentleman upstairs greatly in need of some linens and simply do not have the time to undertake the task of finding some myself. Would you be so kind as to bring them up to his room."  
  
"Well pard, I'd love to help you an all, but I have to start my shift in a few minutes." Vin told Ezra in his lazy Texas drawl.  
  
"Not to worry Mr. Tanner. This task shall only encroach upon a few moments of your time. The sheets are in storage. Ask Inez to help you find them if they are not in plain sight."  
  
"Ezra!" Vin called, but it was too late. The Southern con man had already left the Saloon. Vin stood and made his way to the back room. He grumbled to himself, "Damn it, he did it to me again."  
  
Meanwhile, up in the room, Joseph Hunter stood facing the full-length mirror. He pulled off his boots and shed his trench coat. The man, who had previously stood near 5'10", was now much closer to 5'8". He then stripped off a vest and two shirts, casting them at the foot of the bed. Now he stood, with slim arms upon his hips. "I think," his voice lilted slightly. "That it is time for Mrs. Hunter to make her appearance. He lifted his hand and peeled away the sideburns and mustache, tucking them safely away in a small bag. He, now most definitely a she, turned and took the false bottom from her bag. She withdrew a dark blue skirt, a lighter blue shirt and a thick mass of coppery hair.  
  
She took the hairpiece off the bed and sighed. "Such a waste. I wish I could let it grow out again. Oh well." With an intricate series of clasps and ties, Samantha Hunter was soon looking like her old self, her coppery hair running halfway down her back. Samantha smiled and pulled on her skirt. She was reaching for her shirt when the sound of the doorknob turning made her freeze in her place.  
  
Vin Tanner was never more surprised than when he walked in on Samantha Hunter changing. "Oh shit," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. His face burning he dropped the sheets he had been carrying and spun around to face the wall. "So sorry ma'am. I didn't realize anyone was on here. I mean... I knew, but I though it was a man. And, sorry for cussing."   
  
Samantha didn't know whether to be amused or irritated. Had the man walked in on her five minutes earlier, he would have discovered her secret. "I think you can relax. I'm pretty sure that I haven't got anything you haven't seen before. And besides, I'm wearing clothes."  
  
"That's not really my point ma'am. And, they may be clothes, but they aren't much of clothes."  
  
Samantha looked down at her corset and smiled, seeing the stranger's point. Quickly, she got into her shirt. "All right you can turn around now." Vin turned cautiously, relaxing when he saw that she was in the midst of buttoning her final button. She began stuffing her blouse inside her skirt. "I thought I locked that door."  
  
"Must be broken. I'll tell Ez."  
  
Samantha grinned. "What's your name? Don't worry. I won't bite. Not usually anyway." She offered her hand. "My name's Samantha Hunter."  
  
"Vin, Vin Tanner." He smiled openly for the first time, revealing a set of white, straight teeth. His blue eyes sparkled. Never in his life had he met a woman who would brush off such and incident as unimportant. He noted that her handshake was firm, and that her hands showed plainly of years of hard work. Samantha Hunter, he admitted to himself, was probably one of the most beautiful women he'd seen in his life. She had large, friendly eyes and a slim figure. She had fine boned features and high cheekbones, although her face, much like her hands, showed that she had not been pampered much in her life. Small lines had appeared by her mouth and under her eyes and she had a small scar running down her cheek from just under her hairline. She also gave off an air of strength, something he valued highly in people. "I have to admit it was kind of a shock to see you in here. Ezra said somethin' about a gentlemen renting the room."  
  
"That," Samantha told him, "would be my husband Joseph." She sat on the bed and laced up a pair of boots. "He's running his horses in the race." Vin nodded, his eagle eyes searching the room. Odd he thought, that her husband is out, but without his hat or his boots.   
  
Samantha was about to go on when she heard a loud neigh emanate from the livery. Every nerve in her body became tense. "Chance," she whispered. Before Vin could blink, Sam rushed past him, out the door and down the stairs. Confused, Vin followed.  
  
Samantha raced down the street, her heart in her throat. If anyone had messed with Chance her dreams were finished. She didn't even notice the footsteps following close behind her. The light was beginning to fade, but Chris was still able to see the unmistakable figure of her horse in the stable yard. Two men held onto lead-ropes attached to Chance's halter for dear life. One of the men was a big man with dark hair and a mustache. The other was a thin, dark haired youth that was being dragged as Chance reared repeatedly.  
  
Samantha fumed. "Hey!" She yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"   
  
"Stay back there little lady." The tall one with the mustache called out. "Wouldn't want to see you get hurt." Samantha began to walk forward. "Vin! What are doin'? Grab her before she gets hurt." Vin remained just outside the livery door, a look on his face that Buck couldn't place.  
  
"Now Darlin'" he was cut off when Chance reared again, his slim legs slashing the air. He had all he could do to hold onto his rope. "Stay back!"  
  
"Let go of the ropes," she commanded in a steady voice. Her eyes never left her horse.  
  
"Are you plum loco woman? This horse'll kill you."  
  
"I said let the ropes go." Buck sighed and nodded to the youth. They let go their ropes and dove into nearby stalls. They gray stallion rose once more, his eyes bright. "Chance you clown, quit." The horse landed lightly and bobbed his head, nickering softly. Samantha trotted to her horse and planted a kiss on his velvety muzzle. She unclipped the leads and the horse docilely followed her into an empty stall.  
  
Once secure, Samantha whipped around, her face distorted by anger. "Who the hell are you two fools?" She barked.   
  
"Hey," the younger man protested, "it was Ezra's idea. He wanted to see your horse without its sheet."  
  
Ezra stepped into the light, a small smile crossing his lips. It quickly slipped from his face when Samantha charged him. She hit him square in the chest with both hands, sending him toppling into a pile of horse manure.  
  
"Excuse me, but this jacket was expensive. It was shipped from France."  
  
"I don't care if it came from Timbuktu. That is an expensive horse. You're just lucky no one got hurt. If you wanted to look at Chance up close you should have just asked me or Joseph, you dumb shit." Ezra looked at the raging woman, who was beautiful despite her anger. Something about her eyes perplexed him, but he shoved the thought from his mind. Samantha turned to leave. Halfway out the door she turned around. "Oh and by the way, you can forget the dollar a day for the room. My room has just been comped." Then she walked away.  
  
No one in the livery moved a muscle. A few minutes later Chris arrived, and he was in quite the mood. "Vin, where the hell have you been? Your shift started half an hour ago. I had to ask Josiah to fill your spot until you showed up. Buck, JD, get up out of the hay, you look like children. And Ezra, why are you sitting on the ground?" An odd look crossed Chris's face. "In manure?"  
  
JD snickered and Buck began to laugh. Vin merely shook his head and offered Ezra a hand. The con man took it and was soon out of the dung pile. "It seems that I have failed in my attempts to ingratiate myself with one of the competitors. I will redouble my efforts."  
  
"Gee there Ezra," Buck grinned. "That little lady was madder at you than a rattler with its tail stepped on. Although I must say, I wouldn't mind the chance to ingratiate myself with her either. I'm not sure your charms are goin' to work here Ez. That girl is no ordinary woman."  
  
"I think you just may be right Mr. Wilmington. In fact, she may be a whole new breed."  
  
THE END of Part 1  
  
Please tell me what you think. There is more coming.  
  



	2. Friendship

Title: A Different Breed of Woman 2/?  
Warnings: language  
Author's Note: Don't own them, sigh. Don't sue me. And it's not betad. Continuation of my story A Different Breed of Woman, also available on this site. Samantha is my character, but feel free to use her. Thanks to the person who came up with the names of the Seven's horses.   
  
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The next morning Samantha Hunter awoke with a mild headache. Her pains were directly linked to the group of men she had met the day before. The dusty little town of Four Corners was quickly proving to be full of more obstacles than she had counted on. And the race she had yet to ride in was only one.  
  
IN a single day, she had experienced more hassles than she had her entire trip out to Colorado. First off, the hotel had no vacant rooms to rent and so it seemed she would have to spend yet another night sleeping in a stall. As she had been resigning herself to this fact however, when a handsome man with a peculiar accent and a bright red coat came to her rescue. The man, who introduced himself as Ezra Standish, had offered her a room in his saloon for a dollar a night. The price was unreasonable to be sure, but Sam was so happy at the thought of a bed that she chose to let it slide. Unfortunately, Standish had turned out to be less than a knight in shining armor. Much less, in fact.   
  
Not to mention that her secret had almost been found out. For Samantha Hunter had not arrived in Four Corners as herself, but rather in disguise, dressing the part of her own husband, Joseph. While in the midst of changing out of her disguise, casting her hat, fake mustache and sideburns, boots and three layers of shirts aside, a man opened the door to her room and saw her. Not that, she mused to herself as she dressed in a skirt and shirt, the man had noticed much beyond the fact that she was only half dressed. Typical male she thought, show a little skin and they forget what day it is.   
  
Once fully clothed, she and the man, Vin Tanner, had struck up a conversation. Samantha had been more than happy to talk with the handsome young man with intense blue eyes, long hair and lazy drawl. She did, however, have to keep reminding herself that she was married, sort of.   
  
The next, and final indignity had come from Standish. The sarcastic Southerner had, with the help of two friends, removed Samantha's prized horse from the confines of his stall. Luckily Chance, her horse, nor either of the two men had been hurt during the incident. A decidedly lucky break, considering the extent of Chance's hatred towards anyone he didn't know. In her anger Sam had knocked Standish to the ground and called him some rather unpleasant things, and then informed him of the fact that her stay in his tavern was now free.  
  
Samantha sighed as she straightened the fake ponytail she had attached to her head. "I have never," she muttered, "come across a town with so many good looking men. Of course, it doesn't really matter. They all think I'm married. And it's goin to stay that way." With a final glance at herself in the mirror, Sam left the room, having to move the chair blocking her door as she did so.  
  
The saloon was virtually empty when Sam entered from the back, save seven men seated in one corner, and a pretty, dark haired woman behind the bar. Sam eyed the men for a moment, and then walked to the bar. "Morning. Anyplace in this town I can get some breakfast?"  
  
"Oh sure," a heavy Spanish accent laced the woman's words. "You can get food at the hotel or at our restaurant down the street. Or, I can make you something here."  
  
Sam sat on a stool and sighed. "If you're talking about whiskey I want no part in it, but if you mean strong black coffee, bring it on."  
  
The woman grinned and poured Sam a steaming cup. "Rough night?"  
  
"That's one way of putting it. And it seems you are the friend of some of my troubles." Samantha glanced again at the seven men at the far end of the saloon.   
  
"Ah, so you have met the Siete Magnifico."  
  
"Excuse me?" Samantha blinked sleepily.  
  
"Those men were hired to protect this town by Judge Travis. The people are around here have taken to calling them the Magnificent Seven. My name is Inez by the way."  
  
"Good to meet you Inez. I'm Samantha Hunter. My husband and I are renting a room here till the race Saturday. What's the deal with them anyway? Are they all linked at the hip?"  
  
Inez laughed heartily. "It does seem that way doesn't it? Don't worry, you'll get used to them, eventually."  
  
"Is that a promise or a threat?" Sam asked dryly. Inez laughed again. "What can you tell me about them? Are any of them planning to race? Helps to know the competition after all."  
  
"The man in black is Chris Larabee. He's the leader. Don't cross him. The short one with the long dark hair is JD. He's a sweet boy who wants to prove himself a man. The one hanging over his shoulder is Buck Wilmington. Watch out for him. He'll try to sweet talk you."  
  
"I'm married."  
  
"That's never stopped him before. The black man reading his book is Nathan Jackson. He'll try to tell you that he's not a doctor, but everyone in town knows he is. Josiah Sanchez is the preacher in this town. He gives sermons at the old run down church at the far east side. Those last two," Inez shook her head.  
  
"Ah yes. I've already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Tanner. Seems like a nice enough man. I have also met your employer. That was not such a pleasure."  
  
"Vin is a good man, but a wanted man just the same. But, for a crime he certainly did not commit. See the mare's leg at his hip? He can shoot a pea and twenty yards with that. And Ezra, Ezra is a sheep in wolves clothing." Samantha gave her an odd look. "Trust I got that right. He may not be the most honest man, but I trust him with my life. I trust all of them with my life."  
  
"And are any of them racing?" Sam pressed.  
"I think Buck is toying with the idea, but JD and Ezra certainly are. The rest," she shrugged.  
  
Samantha swallowed the last of her coffee and thanked Inez. Then she laid some coins on the bar and left. She walked down the already busy street, enjoying the warm spring breeze. She didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her. When the hand touched her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin.  
  
"Whoa there. Didn't mean to scare ya."  
  
"Quite all right Mr. Tanner."  
  
"Look, I was hopin to apologize for Ezra. He's so used to bein' underhanded, I don't think he knows how to ask for somthin outright. He didn't mean no harm."  
  
"Why doesn't Ezra apologize himself?"  
  
"Well, Ezra don't say he's ever wrong neither. Where you headin?"  
  
"The livery. I want to check on Chance and Bonfire. Jose don't really like Chance all that much. Not since that blasted horse busted his arm."  
  
"If he's such a terror why don't you get rid of him?"  
  
"Cause that terror is the key to our future. He's the fastest horse on either side of the Mississippi, and Joe and I aim to prove it. And he's not always a terror. Give him a piece of hard candy and he's your friend for life. This prize money is our ticket to payin' for the land we just bought."  
  
"Oh? And what land would that be?"  
  
"Joseph and I were in California when a friend of ours heard about a ranch up for sale a few miles from here. The old Johansson place three or four miles out of town. We saw the land and just fell in love. We have a down payment on it, but really need this money to help pay off the last of it. Our entire savings are held up in that land."  
  
"Well, there are some twenty other men who are aimin for the same cash as you and your husband. And I don't think they plan to just let you have it. These aren't rich racin' folk. Most of em are poor farmers with a fast horse looking to make some quick dough. They'll have tricks up their sleeves."  
  
"Maybe, but they won't have Chance. Some times I think that horse will just sprout wings and take off. He's the closest I'll ever be to actually flyin. He's seven you know, and this is goin to be his last race. We plan to retire him and start raisin some colts. That's what our farm's gonna be, home to the fastest horses in the West. After Saturday, Chance's colts will do the runnin for him."  
  
"And if you lose?"  
  
"We won't." Samantha said with all the confidence she could muster. "We can't." Samantha's stride lengthened until she was ahead of Vin. The conversation was over, at least for her. SO Vin decided to change the subject.  
  
"Where is your husband anyway? I was kind of hoping to meet him. Kind of hopin to see him ride."  
  
"You won't see him ride till race day. I do all the riding till then. As for meetin him," her voice trailed off. "I think he went out to the farm. Should be back late tonight or tomorrow."  
  
"Really? Both your horses are still here." It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"Our foreman must've picked him up in the wagon. You've probably met him, Jerry Weston. A good foreman with an eye for horseflesh. He'll be helping us pick out some good mares to breed to Chance."  
  
"Yeah, I've met Jerry. Never mentioned he was working the old Johansson place though."  
  
"We asked him to keep quiet our plans for the farm. Some people can be kind of touchy." The two had reached the livery and Samantha poked her head inside the door. "Jose? You here?"  
  
The short Mexican rider called, but didn't step out to where they could see him. There was a muffled thump from the hayloft. "Jose, what in tarnation you doin up there?"  
  
Vin senses were on the alert. Something about the situation didn't feel quite right to him. The tracker rushed past Samantha and clambered up the rickety ladder to the hayloft. "Hey!"  
  
The two men that had been with Samantha on the stage looked over to Vin. The husky, unshaven man who had been boasting about his horse had his fist raised. Vin had heard around town that his name was Jim. His rider, a well-muscled young man about Vin's height held Jose's arms to his sides. Jose was slumped against him, blood trickling down his nose. "This ain't none of your business Mister. So why don't you just leave us be?"  
  
Vin shook his head. "Can't do that. See Jose there is a friend of mine, and I am makin this my business. Now. Let him go."  
  
"Who's gonna make us? You friend?" The husky man took a threatening step toward the tracker.  
  
Vin shook his head again, pushing one flap of his well-worn jacket aside to reveal the saw off Winchester strapped to his thigh. "I just might. And let's get one thing clear, I ain't your friend. Now git."  
  
The husky man nodded to his rider and the two hurried from the loft, taking a wide birth around Vin. Samantha, in the meantime, had made her way toward Jose. Upon passing Sam, Jim stopped and stared at her for a moment, before following his rider down the ladder.  
  
"You all right Jose?" Samantha knelt beside him, examining his bloody nose and the nasty bruise forming around his eye.  
  
"Si senora. Those men, they accuse me of trying to poison their caballo. Jose would not do such a thing to an animal. They just want trouble. Please Senora, you must believe."  
  
"Of course I believe you Jose. Don't worry about them. Right now I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"  
  
"Si senora. I will be ready to ride in an hour. Chance and Bonfire will be ready too."  
  
Samantha could have laughed. "Wonderful. Here," she gave the man a few dollars, "go get some breakfast and clean up your face. I'll meet you back here in an hour and a half." With a final smile, the little man hurried away. She and Vin followed at a slightly less frantic pace.  
  
"Seems like you're headin for some trouble."  
  
"Maybe. I think those guys were just blowin off steam though. At the moment, I have bigger problems. I need to make some money quick. I thought I had enough cash to register both my horses, but I'm a hundred or so short. I registered Chance last night. Now I have to turn my fifty into one hundred and fifty by this afternoon, if I want to register Bonfire too. Think there'll be a poker game goin on at this time in the morning?"  
  
"In this town? With this many new people? Yep. All these newbies haven't learned to avoid Ezra yet."  
  
"Good."  
  
Samantha entered the room and scanned the scene. There were two or three games going on at a few tables, all with money trading hands, but she wanted the high rollers. And she found them, circled around a felt covered table, with Ezra gathering in a load of chips. "Room for one more?" she queried.  
  
Ezra eyed her doubtfully for a moment, then nodded to a man to his right. "I believe this gentleman has run dry. If you choose to, I have no qualms with you taking his vacated seat. Have you ever played Poker before?"  
  
Samantha picked up the stack of playin cards and fingered them awkwardly. "Once or twice, but I'm a fast learner."  
  
Ezra flashed her a toothy grin, a stream of sunlight bouncing off his gold tooth. "Well then. We'll let this first hand be a bit of a tutorial for you. Do any of you gentlemen object?" No one at the table uttered a word, happy to let someone else be the center of the gambler's attentions. Sam took her seat.  
  
Vin sat next to Buck at the bar and ordered himself a whiskey. "You're just goin to let that pretty lady get fleeced by Ezra? I thought you had better manners than that Vin." Buck crowed with indignation. "I'm going to put a stop to this." Buck rose, but Vin grabbed his arm and quietly shook his head. Buck sat. "You're not worried about her getting taken?"  
  
Vin merely grinned and sipped his drink. "Nope."  
  
"But it's Ezra Vin, our Ezra."  
"Yep."  
  
"And yet you're not concerned?"  
  
"Nope. I get this feelin that Samantha Hunter don't go into something half cocked. If she's sitting at that table, she expects to win. And from what I've seen so far, she just might."  
  
Now Buck was grinning. He chuckled softly. "Huh. Ezra bein taken by a lady. That would be a sight. I think I'm goin to watch this."  
  
An hour later Samantha and Ezra were the last two people remaining at the card table. Between the two of them, they cleaned out everyone to their last nickel. They sat across from one another, each face a blank mask. By the end of their game, Samantha was sure that there was no better Poker player in all of Colorado than the man sitting across from her. He could bluff, cheat and play it straight, all without a muscle twitching. That was not to say however, that Sam did not hold her own. She won as much as she lost, and ended up with a pot comparable to Ezra's own.  
  
She had passed her hundred and fifty dollar goal twenty minutes before, and was no playing her last hand for the sure enjoyment of it. "I'll take two." She tossed her cards at the gambler.  
  
"Two for the lady," Ezra drawled, "and the dealer takes one." They both examined their cards studiously. "You're good." He said seriously.  
  
"You too. I'll see your twenty, and raise you five."  
  
"Accepted, and bettered by ten. But in all seriousness, how did you come into this extraordinary talent? You are by far the most challenging game I've played in months."  
  
"Glad I could help keep you sharp." She threw down another ten dollars worth of chips. Neither player seemed aware of the sizeable crowd now gathered around their table. Even Chris, for all his misgivings about the upcoming race, held an interest in the outcome of the match.   
  
"But I am afraid that I will have to end this hand, and our game. I call."  
  
Ezra grinned again, wide enough to reveal the gold tooth and bring out the sparkle in his emerald green eyes. "I do hate to relieve you of your burden, but as you see, these four lovely ladies must insist." There was a gasp let up by the audience, and Ezra leaned back in his chair clasping his hands behind his head. He put his boots up on the table.  
  
Sam's face remained very grave. "Yes, that is a very good hand. Too bad." Ezra held his hands palms up, waiting for the woman to admit defeat. "Too bad," she repeated, "that I have a better one. Do you think your ladies would like to be accompanied by my four handsome kings?" She laid the cards out on the table. Ezra was rendered momentarily speechless. He might have said something after overcoming his shock, but he was too busy picking himself up off the floor, having tipped his chair. Not to mention that he probably would not have been heard over the cheering.  
  
To his credit, Ezra in this instance was a gracious loser. He tipped his hat to Samantha and helped her gather her winnings, pocketing only a few smaller chips for himself. "How did you do that? Please, I really must know where you learned the intricacies of this game of chance."  
  
"I'm sorry, but there are some things a lady must a keep a secret. Hope you understand." With a quick salute, Sam hurried up the tavern stairs.   
  
Buck and Vin approached Ezra from either side. "I for one," Buck assured the con man, "will not forget that game for a long time."  
  
"And pard, I sure as hell ain't gonna forget the look on your face when you fell over your chair." Buck and Vin howled with laughter. Ezra barely seemed to hear them.  
  
"Gentlemen please. I am not one to begrudge a lady with such immense talents."  
  
"Since when Ez?"   
  
"You are incredibly uncouth Mr. Tanner. I take my leave of you." Ezra turned on his heel and left the bar, presumably to go lick his wounds.  
  
"I'd say that little lady had our gambling friend all tied up in knots." Buck patted Vin's shoulder.  
  
Vin laughed. "I'd say so. He was so busy looking at her face, he didn't even notice the extra King she had up her sleeve." Then the two friends laughed even harder.  
  
Samantha changed, registered Bonfire and hid the remainder of her winnings in her room. Then she walked down to the livery with a light bounce in her step. The day had turned crisp and warm, a light breeze coming in from the West. It was the perfect day for a ride.   
  
Samantha had a pair of gloves tucked into the waistband of her loose fitting, flowing pants. A black hat hung around her shoulders. Upon nearing the livery she heard Chance's clarion call, ringing through the air. She broke into a jog. Jose was bringing the immense stallion outside, but was not having an easy time of it. Chance plunged and bucked at his side, wringing his neck around like a snake. The little Mexican could do little more than provide himself as dead weight to slow the horse's charge.  
  
She caught the reins and halted Chance mid-stride. Jose looked up at her gratefully. "Go get Bonfire. I'll meet you at the training area." Jose nodded and dashed back into the confines of the barn. Sam walked Chance down the street, actually walked and wasn't dragged. She knew where she was going, for the town had cleared a fairly substantial amount of land outside its limits for use by the racers.   
  
Halfway to her destination, three riders on horseback approached her from the training field. Chance tensed, so when he acted Sam was ready. The stallion reared, striking out with slim forelegs. She let the reins slide through her fingers until they had reached the end of their length and kept close to his side, away from the deadly hooves. The horse landed, and Sam gave a firm tug on the reins to make him understand that he should stay there.  
  
"You're not actually planning on riding that animal are you?" Buck called out from atop his gray.   
  
"Is he always this much of a pain-in-the-ass when it comes to protecting women?" She asked Ezra and Vin.  
  
"Yes." They both answered at the same time.   
  
As if to prove her point, Samantha locked eyes with Buck, grabbed the pommel of her saddle, stuck her foot in the stirrup and swung on, just as nice as you please. Chance reared again, Samantha sticking to the saddle expertly.   
  
"All right, I get the point," Buck surrendered. Samantha nodded with satisfaction.   
  
"That's an unusual saddle." Vin commented as the four of them headed to the field.  
  
Samantha looked down at the saddle she was riding in and nodded. She hardly noticed anymore, but had to admit that it must look strange. The seat of the saddle was that of a western saddle, with a high pommel, deep seat and wide cantle, but the flaps were that of a traditional English saddle, as were the stirrups. "I suppose so, but it make sense for what I need. I had it made special in Kentucky a few years back. I get all the comfort of a western seat, but its about ten pounds lighter. Makes a big difference when you're riding all day or racing a long way."  
  
The three men continued to talk and she would occasionally answer with a yep or mm-hm, but her mind was not on talking. Chance was giving her a hard time, but not so that it was visible to anyone watching. He played with the bit, taking it in his teeth and attempting to break into a trot, but Sam held him back. She could feel his tension; it surrounded them like a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt tense. He ached to run.  
  
At the field they stopped and looked around. Sam took Chance's moment of calm to slip on her gloves. Ten or so competitors were out riding. She sighted in on a tall, lanky bay. "Who's that?" she motioned to the horse with her chin, not daring to let the reins go.  
  
"That would be JD. He's been all excited about winning this race on Seven for weeks. It's all the boy can think about." Buck told her. Buck stuck to fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, blaring whistle. The bay horse broke from a gallop to a trot, and headed in their direction. Chance stomped the ground.  
  
JD's eyes were bright as he rode to them. His horse trotted calmly; lather having formed on his neck. The horse's nostrils were dilated and red and his sides heaved. "Seven and I just put in the fastest work over half a mile we've done so far. I think we've got a shot for Saturday."  
  
Samantha nodded slowly. "Nice horse. Clean lines, a well-sloped shoulder and long enough through the back for a fairly large stride. But, exactly how much time have you spent with him conditioning?"  
  
JD eyed Samantha curiously. He wiped sweat from his forehead, taking off his odd hat to do so. "Conditioning?" He repeated.  
  
"You know, making sure he can run the four miles without keeling over. Having a fast horse doesn't help you if he can't sustain his drive over a distance. Long, slow works at the trot and canter really help with that."  
  
JD blushed, and stammered. "W...well I mean, I hadn't really thought about it. I...I uh ride him all the time. I thought he was fit."  
  
Samantha shook her head. "Riding fit is not necessarily racing fit. Not to worry though," she added quickly, realizing how condescending she must sound. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure that Jose and Bonfire were in fact coming up behind her. "You still have some time before the race. They opened the course today right?" She asked Vin.  
  
"Yep, open for the competitors to ride over."  
  
"Look JD, it'll take Jose a good twenty minutes to warm Bonfire up. Walk Seven till he's done and then ride with him over the course at a trot. Do the same thing tomorrow too, but ride the course twice. Day after that, ride one circuit at the canter and two at the trot. Should set you up pretty well for Saturday. Sound good?"  
  
JD nodded, feeling mildly less ignorant. He rode off with Seven at a walk to wait for Jose and Bonfire. Sam leaned over to Jose and spoke a few words in Spanish. The Mexican smiled and nodded. "Si, I will ride with the boy over the track. No problemo."   
  
Samantha nodded. "After the first trip around, take Bonfire around again at a canter. We'll run him out tomorrow." Jose saluted and rode off.  
  
"That was a good thing you did." Buck told her.  
  
She shrugged. "JD didn't know, and besides, Bonfire needs conditioning too. I'll take Chance out later today and see what I see. Right now though, I'm going to warm him up and let him stretch out a bit. Stay back from his heels though, he's a firecracker when he's excited." She warned. Samantha nudged Chance into a trot across the field, circling first to the left and then to the right, crossing the field in a complicated series of turns. Ezra guessed that it was her way of keeping Chance's attentions.  
  
He and Vin sat on their mounts, watching Sam put Chance through his paces. The gray moved effortlessly, his muscles sliding easily under his thin coat. He appeared to float. When she asked the stallion to canter, he exploded in a series of bucks before settling into a less than even pace.   
  
"Quite the rider," Vin muttered.  
  
"Yes," Ezra mused. "Odd. That horse seems so much attached to her. He's as much of a one person horse as Chaucer here. It's a wonder her husband can ride him as well." Ezra patted his chestnut's well-muscled shoulder lovingly. Chaucer shook his head at the touch.   
  
Vin glanced at the southerner, his eyes narrowed. Exactly how much, Vin wondered, has Ez guessed? "I'm not sure what you've been watching, but that horse is givin her one hell of a time."  
  
"Think about it Mr. Tanner. If he really wanted to toss his rider, he could easily do so. He's playing around as much as she'll let him, but no more. Quite a charade those two are pulling."  
  
Ten minutes or so later, Sam trotted back to Vin and Ezra. Buck had gone off with JD and Jose to ride the course. Sweat rolled down Sam's face and she was breathing hard, but was grinning just the same. "He feels great!" She exclaimed. She opened her mouth to speak again, when the sound of shots rang through the air. No one else in the training field seemed to notice, but Sam Ezra and Vin were closest to the source. The shots seemed to have originated from the course.   
  
Samantha flinched and Chance leaped into the air. Ezra and Vin exchanged a glance. They wheeled their horses and took off for the ridge. It was the only section of the course not able to be seen from the field and the best place for a sniper. Samantha reined Chance back and took off after them. "Remain here!" Ezra called back at her.  
  
Chance drew even with the other two horses. Sam's face was stony. "That's my friend and my horse. I'm coming." Neither of the two men argued with her further.  
  
In a matter of minutes the three galloping horse reached the ridge. The rider's drew their horses to a halt when they saw Seven and Clyde, Buck's sturdy gray gelding. They didn't see Buck, Jose or JD.  
  
"Buck! JD!" Vin called, drawing his gun. Ezra pulled his Remington.   
  
From her vantage point, Sam saw a prone figure lying in the dirt. She recognized the man's plain gray hat and bandana. "Jose!" She called. She spurred Chance forward, unmindful of the danger.   
  
Samantha galloped up to her friend's form, and leaped off while Chance was still cantering. She tried to go to him, but Chance, fearful of the smell of blood, pulled her away. Hooves clattered behind her. Buck and JD appeared out of the brush, guns drawn. "Ambushed," Buck gasped. "From the rocks. We couldn't find him."  
  
Vin left Peso ground tied near Jose and kneeled over the body. Samantha held Chance as close as the stallion dared get. She could see the dark pool of blood spreading out around him. Her hands shook and her knees felt week. Her eyes searched Vin's desperately, hoping against hope that she would find some comfort there. Vin only shook his head. "He's dead."  
  
The End: Part 2  
  
Part three coming soon. Tell me what you think.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Secrets

Title: A Different Breed of Woman 3/?  
Warnings: Language  
Disclaimer: I don't own them; just want to use them. Don't sue me please, I have no money.  
Author's Note: This is the continuation of my story A Different Breed of Woman. The Samantha character is mine, but feel free to use her. This isn't betad. Thanks to those that came up with names for the Seven's horses. No spoilers, I think.  
  
  
"He can't be dead." Samantha's entire body shook and she had to lean against Chance for support. The gray stallion remained quiet and still for the first time that day, as if sensing his owner's emotional turmoil. She stared at Jose, her friend, his body bleeding out on the sandy ground.   
  
Vin gently closed the Mexican rider's eyes. "Shot right through the heart. Nothin anybody could've done. I'm sorry Sam." Vin took off his hat as a sign of respect, and Buck, JD and Ezra followed suit.   
  
Samantha's hazel eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip to stop their advance. She would not cry in front of these brave men. Buck and JD, who could easily have been the shooter's next victims. Her stomach lurched. "Oh God. I think I'm gonna be sick."  
  
Ezra quickly stepped forward and relieved Samantha of her hold on Chance's reins. Sam rushed to a small gathering of brush, collapsed onto her knees and violently threw up the food she had consumed that morning.   
  
Her back to the four men, she let a few tears slide down her face. Of all the things she thought could go wrong, losing Jose had never entered her mind. She had dreaded the thought that someone would find out that she and her husband Joseph were really one and the same; that she dressed like a man so she could race her prized horse. She worried that neither of her horses would come in victorious, ending her dream of owning a breeding farm in the Colorado territory. But losing Jose, this had never even entered into the realm of possibility.  
  
Footsteps approached her from behind and she quickly wiped the tears from her cheek. She spit onto the ground, hoping to relieve the putrid taste from her mouth. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched, a purely involuntary reaction. She looked up, and was met with the kind, blue eyes of the tracker Vin Tanner. "You all right? I mean, you gonna be able to get back to town?"  
  
Samantha nodded slowly and stood on wobbly legs. "I'll be okay."   
  
"We could ride back into town and come back later with the wagon!" Ezra called out from a few yards off. Chance was not taking kindly to the Southerner's restricting hold and was pulling him about. Ezra's emerald green eyes however, remained concerned and locked on Sam. "Buck and JD are heading back right now to tell Chris what happened."  
  
"NO," she shook her head vehemently. "I'm won't leave him out here to be ravaged. He deserves more, he deserves better. He never deserved this."  
  
"Completely understandable. We shall carry him back to town on Peso, because I believe him to be the only horse here calm enough to undertake the carrying of a dead body. Would you stand still you infernal animal!" Ezra shouted at the plunging gray. At that moment, the gambler tripped and the reins slipped from his grasp. Chance trotted over to Sam and stuck his nose in her chest, seeming concerned.  
  
Samantha stroked his nose absent-mindedly. Ezra picked himself up off the ground for the second time that day and dusted off his jacket. "Oh God! Bonfire! I forgot. I have to go after him. If he gets hurt..." She shook her head and prepared to mount.  
  
"Easy there girl. Buck told me Bonfire high tailed it back towards town. My guess is that he's in his stall right now. Just give me a minute and we'll all go back together. There is still a killer on the loose." Her fear momentarily subsided and she remained while Vin slung Jose over Peso's withers. With Ezra holding Jose's prone shoulders Vin was able to spring into the saddle. Peso merely grunted at the extra weight.   
  
The trio began their march to town in a much different fashion than they'd left. No one spoke or joked. Ezra didn't smile and Vin concentrated on keeping his passenger on his horse. Samantha slipped away, retreating to some private place in her mind. Her expression was dull and vacant, and Even Chance who had been such a terror that morning walked lethargically back.  
  
Ezra reined Chaucer back, slowing until he rode beside Vin. "Will you be returning to the ridge when we have our guest comfortably settled in her room?"  
  
"Yep. Not that I expect to find much. The ground is hard and people have been riding all through there for a week. Unless she can shed some light on the whole thing I'd say we're stuck before we've started."  
  
"Do you honestly believe she will be able to illuminate the situation further?"  
  
"Not really Ez. Just gotta check is all."   
  
Two hours later, Samantha was ready to wring someone's neck. Chris and Ezra had been peppering her with questions for over an hour. Nathan was poking and prodding at her, only managing to irritate her further. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" She finally yelled. "Would you stop poking me?!"  
  
"I've told you already. I don't know who would want to stop us from racin. I don't know who would want to hurt Jose and I don't know why you all keep asking me the same questions over and over! What about those two guys who were hasslin' Jose in the loft? Have you talked to them?"  
  
Chris shook his head. "It's no good. Buck and JD asked around, and they both have solid alibis. Twenty people can account for the fact that they were at the field when the shots rang out. Are you sure there is nothin else you could tell us?" Larabee's eyes narrowed as he studied the young woman's expression.  
  
Sam responded icily. "NO, nothin' else to tell. Can I go now?"  
Chris nodded and backed away from the table. Sam stood and purposefully walked from the saloon. The sunlight stung her eyes and she realized that it could be no later than two or three in the afternoon. Odd, she mused, somehow this day seems very long. Like it should be done already. Her aimless wandering found her in front of the ramshackle church. She stared at it for a moment before opening the door and walking through.  
  
A burly, tall man was standing at the front of the church with a hammer and some nails in his hands. He looked more like a handyman than a preacher. He turned when he heard the door. The woman he saw there looked hesitant, sad. He waited for her to speak first.  
  
"I'm really not sure I should be here." She finally said, her voice flat.  
  
"All are welcomed in the house of God." He assured her.  
  
She twirled the dark hat she carried nervously in her fingers. "I haven't been to a service in years. Never was one to sit around listening to someone who knew nothing of what they preached. Didn't know God, didn't know the world. Seemed silly."  
  
Josiah smiled softly. "You might be right about that. But trust that I have seen the world. And don't worry about not going to service. Every person worships in his or her own way. This is merely a building. It isn't faith. Faith is your belief. And God loves all his children, no matter their faith."  
  
Sam shook her head somberly. "Doesn't love me."  
  
"Come now child, you can't mean that. He doesn't discriminate. He helps his flock."  
  
The bitterness in her voice made Josiah ache. "He never helped me. He never came to me when I needed him. He left me alone! He lost this sheep and I lost my faith a long time ago!" The woman suddenly seemed aware of what she had said. "I knew I didn't belong here. This isn't for me, never was. I was wrong to come. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."  
  
She slipped out the door. Josiah chased after her calling, "Wait!" But by the time he reached the entrance the woman was gone, vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.  
  
Samantha ran through the crowded street to the livery. She needed to leave for a while, to be alone. She wanted to ride; to fly so fast her problems would be left behind her. Chance was nibbling on some hay when she approached his stall. He recognized her footsteps and stuck his head over the stall door. "You're my faith boy. We can do this. We can win for Jose. I believe in you and I believe in me. That's all I've ever needed.  
  
The horse snorted and tossed his head as if to agree with her. The faintest hint of a smile crossed her lips and she moved to collect her tack. The stallion was saddled and ready to go in less than ten minutes. JD came in as she was leading Chance out. "Where are you going?"  
  
"I need to find Joseph. He'll want to know what happened."  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"  
  
"Don't worry about it. I have this." Samantha raised her Colt pistol for the young man to see and then shoved it into her saddlebag. With that Sam leaped into the saddle. Horse and rider burst into the sunlight at a fast canter. People scattered in front of them. Sam didn't notice.   
  
She felt her horse stretch out, hooves scarcely touching the ground as he flew along faster and faster. She clung close to his neck, her face hidden by his blowing mane. She kept to a gallop until they were far beyond the reaches of Four Corners. Even when she stopped she only saw the path in front of her. Sam didn't even see the rider in Buckskins upon his black horse trotting after her. She just needed...something.  
  
Jerry Weston was not prepared for a lone rider to come to the farm that day. He certainly did not expect it to be Sam and Chance. As far as he knew they were preparing for the race in Four Corners. He tipped back his hat and waited while Sam delivered the stallion to a stable boy.  
  
"What are ya doin' back here? I thought you were gonna stay in Four Corners until after the race." Samantha came to him and whipped off her hat. Jerry had known Sam for the better part of twelve years, and he had never seen her in so much anguish. It ebbed and flowed around her like a veil. "What's wrong?"  
  
Samantha shook her head and wrapped her arms around the older man's neck. "Everything is falling apart," she cried. "Jose, Jose died today Jerry." Weston stiffened, but said nothing. Jose had been his friend as well. He led her inside the ranch house and listened as the entire story poured out.   
  
An hour or two later, Sam and Jerry sat together on the porch of the house sipping coffee. Letting herself cry had lifted an enormous weight from Christina's shoulders. She felt much more composed than when she had arrived, thankful to finally be with someone who knew her and who knew her secrets. It was refreshing. "I don't know what do Jerry."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
She sighed and reached behind herself to release the irritating hairpiece. She laid it beside her had rubbed her fingers through her short hair. "Maybe none of this was meant to happen. Maybe what happened today was an omen you know? Maybe I was never meant to ride in that race Saturday."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous Sam. You are more meant to ride in that race than anybody else. Every time I see you up on that ornery cuss of a stud I know following you out here was the right thing to do. Your father would be proud."  
  
"My father died alone and poor Jerry." She scoffed.  
  
"He was never alone Sam." He reprimanded her fiercely. "He always had you. He would have loved this. I remember the first time he ever sat you on a horse. He taught you to be the rider you are, the horsewoman you are. Never forget how proud he was."  
  
Sam felt a tightness in her chest. "I won't. I promise, but maybe I should have stayed. I always held my own. I could've stayed. Out here," she shook her head, "I don't even have him."  
  
Jerry scowled. "Don't even think it. What if he got really drunk one day huh Sammy? Huh? He woulda killed you one of these days and you know it. You know it even better than me. Bein alone is better."  
  
Sam traced the scar on her cheek with her index finger. "You're right. You're right about everything." Then the two friends fell into silence. Sam's eyes swept over the farm, her farm. Sunlight glinted off something in the distance, and her eyes focused on its position. Then she saw him. At first she was sure that she was seeing things, but then she looked again. Far out into the plains she saw the rider on the black horse. She recognized the horse's bold white markings almost immediately. "Damn," she muttered under her breath.  
  
"What?"   
  
The horse disappeared from view. Samantha sat bolt upright in her chair. "I gotta leave Jerry. Get someone to tack Chance up for me. I'll see you Saturday." Samantha jumped up and kissed her dear friend's cheek. Then she grabbed her ponytail from the table and went back inside the house to collect her hat and jacket.  
  
Samantha and Chance left the farm half an hour later. Sam rode at a steady trot, not trying to catch the rider she had seen earlier. She figured she could find him in town when she arrived there. Dusk had begun to settle, the night sky streaked by an array of red and orange.  
  
Sam traveled in a relatively straight line. She veered from her course only when blocked by a large band of black heifers bearing a P on their flanks. She would have to make sure someone moved the stock off her land and fenced it off. She didn't want someone's stock to ruin her grazing land.  
  
It was nearly eleven when she came within sight of the town. She visibly relaxed, no longer fearing an attack. The attack would come, she was sure, when she least expected it. It would come when she was not ready. A horse approached her from the left, its hooves making a racket in the quiet night. Her hopes rose momentarily, thinking that it might be the tracker. The rider drew closer and her hopes fell as she recognized Ezra's lively chestnut. The thoughtful frown returned to her face.  
  
Ezra and Chaucer drew up along side her. "That," Ezra stated, "is not the expression of a person happy to see my visage."  
  
Sam had to smile. The way the genteel southerner talked was too much for her to keep a straight face. "Evening Ezra. Do you find this a pleasant night for a ride, or were you just following me?"  
  
"Neither actually. Mr. Sanchez has relieved me of my watch. I was on my way back to the saloon, my cards, and my soft feather bed. Meeting you was purely chance."  
  
Samantha threw him a sidelong glance. "Somehow I doubt that. Do you think Vin will be around tonight? I need to speak with him."  
  
For the briefest instant the gambler's face fell, but his Poker face quickly reassembled itself and his features were once again blank and emotionless. "I am not certain," he drawled. "Perhaps if Mr. Tanner is feeling particularly social... But he is quite adverse to all the people in town, so I suspect he is camping out in his wagon tonight. I'm sure you'll be able to find him in the morning."  
  
"Good to know." The two dismounted in front of the livery.  
  
Ezra held Chaucer's reins loosely as they continued their conversation. "Where were you coming from so late yourself? There isn't much out in the direction from which you came, only the Johansson farm and the Prescott Ranch."  
  
His words registered in Samantha's mind, but her attentions were fixed on his horse. The chestnut had moved around his owner so that he was close to Chance. Using a talent Sam was sure was born from years of experience; the chestnut began to pull at the straps of Chance's bridle.   
  
"What on earth is that horse doing?" She asked, amused.  
  
Ezra looked at his horse and gave a quick tug on the reins. "I'm sorry, Chaucer has the uncanny ability to work buckles with his teeth. Actually, he has a thing about his mouth in general. He tends to place it where and when it does not belong. He has even managed to escape from his stall and let all the other horses loose at once. You can imagine the stable boys surprise when seven horses raced from the stable one morning. Of course, we rectified that by placing a bolt on his door where he cannot reach. Not that it stops him from trying."  
  
Samantha raised an eyebrow and followed Ezra inside the livery. "Your horse," she paused, "is very...odd."  
  
"Only misunderstood, I assure you. Chaucer tends to get bored if one does not keep his mind occupied." Ezra lifted the saddle from the horse's back and placed it on its rack on the back wall. "You still have not answered my previous query. Where were you tonight?"  
  
"I went to find Joseph. I needed to tell him about Jose. He's coming in Friday night." She brought her saddle to her trunk, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of her friend's untimely demise.  
  
Ezra groomed Chaucer quickly and fed him an apple, his favorite treat. "Will you be staying?"  
  
Samantha shrugged. "For a while. I want to finish grooming him, feed and oil my tack before I go to bed. Night Ezra."  
  
"Good night Mrs. Hunter." Ezra tipped his hat to her and left, heading in the direction of the saloon. Sam watched him go.  
  
When the con man left her field of vision, Samantha returned to her tasks. She fumbled around in the darkness, bumping her shin on a trunk and silently wishing for better lighting. The stable was dark to begin with, and the only light offered was by the crescent moon and solitary kerosene lamp.  
  
As she herself had predicted, she was not ready when the attack came. The man came out of the darkness, from an empty stall. Samantha was fumbling with a bale of hay when a figure rushed at her. She managed a single, short cry before the man drove her to the ground.  
  
Ezra was half way to the saloon when he heard the high-pitched cry echoing down the empty streets. "Damn." He muttered. He pulled his Remington from its holster and ran back to the livery.  
  
Sam's attacker dragged her to her feet as Ezra arrived. The gambler could barely see, but he did notice the moonlight flashing off of a deadly looking hunting blade. The steel was pressed close to Samantha's throat, so close she dared not swallow for the chance that the blade would pierce her skin.   
  
Ezra raised his pistol, leveling it carefully. He could see the fear in Samantha's eyes, the protruding muscles of her neck. Her attacker remained quite still, moving neither right nor left, shrouded in the shadow of the loft.  
  
"Let her go. If you kill her I will most assuredly put all six bullets of this gun in your worthless hide before you can blink. And no, word over my accuracy has not been exaggerated. Believe me, that despite this darkness I will not miss. Let her go." Ezra's voice remained calm and steady, despite the fact that he could hear his heart pounding like a drum inside his chest.  
  
The man holding Sam didn't blink, didn't utter a word. He backed further into the shadows until his form was completely obliterates. Ezra dared not take a shot. There was a thump of someone hitting the ground and feet as they ran from the stable. Ezra holstered his weapon and rushed forward. "Samantha?"  
  
"Don't yell, I'm all right." He found her clutching her shoulder in the straw pile. Blood seeped from between her fingers.  
  
"You're bleeding." He announced dumbly.  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"I'm going to get Nathan."  
  
"No!" Sam cried out. Seeing Ezra's shocked expression she continued. "I don't want anyone else knowing about this. Chris and the others already think there is someone trying to eliminate us from the race."  
  
"Well it appears their assumptions were correct."  
  
"If they find out about this Ezra they won't let Chance race. Chris hinted at that already today. He doesn't want anyone else getting hurt, and I don't blame him. But I know Joseph and I know myself and I'm telling you right now that we have to race. Please. The only life at risk here is mine."  
  
Ezra stared at the woman in disbelief. Then he sighed. "I can't imagine why I'm agreeing to this. If Nathan knew he'd have my hide. Come on, we'll fix you up in the saloon." Samantha smiled and rose to her feet.  
  
They snuck into the saloon through the back doors and up the stairs to Ezra's room. He sat Samantha down on his bed and began to root through his desk drawers. He came up triumphant, a flask, some bandages and scissors in his grasp. He poured fresh water into his wash bin.  
  
"Let's see if we can't fix you up. You're lucky this isn't too deep or you'd require stitches. You are also fortunate that I myself hate to visit our resident medical expert unless absolutely necessary."  
  
Samantha sat quietly on the edge of the mattress while Ezra wiped the wound with a cloth doused in water. With every swipe of the cloth, a new surge of blood came to the surface of her arm. She watched in keen interest. "Do this often?" she joked.  
  
"In my profession one makes enemies readily. I have, on occasion, put these practices to good use."  
  
They lapsed into silence. "My father," she eventually blurted out.  
Ezra stopped cleaning the wound. "Your father what?"  
  
"My father was the person who taught me how to play Poker. At one time he was a dealer on a Riverboat in Memphis. Taught me every trick in the book, and then some. Took me all of it to best you today."  
  
"Flattery will get you nowhere. I will still have to irrigate this with liquor."  
  
Sam smiled softly. "I know. Just thought you'd like to know is all. He taught me all I know of riding too. He raised me alone practically since birth. Probably would have liked you."  
  
"And your mother?"  
  
"She wasn't around much. Wasn't around at all really. She left my dad when I was five. I'd see her every few years but we never really bonded. Didn't like the way I chose to live my life."  
  
Ezra grunted. "I can relate. Now hold still. I want to waste as little of this whiskey as possible. This is a very fine liquor indeed." He raised the flask above her wound, but Sam grabbed it before a drop spilled. Very purposefully she took a long swallow before handing it back to Ezra. He grinned.  
  
The whiskey felt as if it were burning her skin, melting her arm. Samantha bit her lip as the fire crept down her arm into her fingertips. A loud hissing cry escaped her lips. Ezra slapped a hand over her mouth. "Do you want to wake the entire town?" he admonished.  
  
"That hurts."  
  
"I realize..."  
  
Sam cut him off. "You don't realize, it's not your arm." She hissed fiercely. She latched onto the lapel of his jacket and pulled his head close to hers, her eyes ablaze.  
  
Ezra found himself staring into Samantha's eyes, unable to look away. He felt her breath sluice over his features. Warning bells sounded in his head. She was married. She was unavailable. "Samantha," he began.   
  
"Bandage the arm," she told him quietly, releasing her grip on his jacket. Ezra did so and the two exchanged no more words. As soon as he finished, Sam rushed from his room. She could have kicked herself. Married, married, married, she repeated the words in her head over and over as she raced down the hall into her room. She locked the door behind her and threw herself facedown on her bed. "Ah shit." And with those unpleasant thoughts still running through her head, Sam fell into a worried, dreamless sleep.  
  
She woke the following morning early, feeling less than rested. The sun had yet to rise over the horizon and the town looked asleep. Samantha changed and hurried from her room, careful not to wake the sleeping gambler. She pushed all thoughts of the previous night from her mind and concentrated on what she needed to do.  
  
Bonfire was ready to go in under ten minutes. She had heard some of the townsfolk say that the tracker camped near Lomita Ridge, and that was where she was headed. This time though, her pistol remained where she could access it easily.  
  
She rode at a steady lope across the plain toward the mountains. She spotted Vin's beaten up wagon a quarter mile off. She came closer and saw the dim glow of a fire. Peso stood by the wagon without his saddle or bridle, munching happily on a patch of grass. Sam rode quietly into the camp and dismounted. She wondered where Vin could be. Peso looked up from his breakfast and nickered. She froze as she heard the Winchester being cocked behind her.  
  
"Turn around," he ordered, "nice and slow." Sam did as she was told and upon seeing her face, the tracker's shoulders relaxed and he lowered his rifle. "Samantha."  
  
"Vin. We have to talk."  
  
"Yep," he answered. "We do." He gestured with his hand that she should sit, which she did after hitching Bonfire to the back of the wagon.  
  
"You know." Sam told him calmly.  
  
"That depends on what you're talking about. I know a lot of things."  
  
"Damn it Vin quit playing around. You're not going to tell anyone are you?"  
  
"Not really sure yet pard. Seems like it's your business, but I have a duty to these townsfolk. First tell me why."  
  
Samantha grunted and rubbed her temples. "Seems pretty obvious don't it. They don't let women race. I thought it might be different out here, but its not. Chance is the fastest thing with four hooves anywhere, but I can't prove it unless I ride. And I can't ride as a woman. Don't really seem fair does it? I know something so well, but because I was born this way I can't do it."  
  
"Life," the tracker paused, thinking of his own problems with the law, "is rarely fair. I think all of us know that to some degree."  
  
"This is the last time Vin. I retire with Chance. But unless I win this race it's all over. No farm, no future. I'm out of money. If I don't ride there's nothin left for me to do but go home, and I can't do that."  
  
Vin studied her eyes. They held a look he knew well, like she was haunted, or hunted. He shook his head slowly and held out his hand. "You have my word."  
  
"Thank you." She grasped the tracker's warm hand and shook it firmly. Samantha stood and retrieved Bonfire. She stopped while untying his reins and shot Vin an odd look. "You know, this whole town seems consumed by race fever, except you and Chris. I know why he objects. Why do you? Do you not want to race?"  
  
"Wanting and bein able to are different things. Sure, the thousand bucks would be nice, but I'm not deluded enough to think that I could win on Peso. Don't get me wrong, I mean, he's a great little horse that will go all day, but he ain't fast. And I got this thing about losin."  
  
An idea was forming rapidly in Sam's mind. "You know," she began, "I did pay the entry on Bonfire. I'd have a better chance of winning that money with two horses in the race don't you think?"   
  
Vin followed her train of thought and nodded. "Maybe."  
  
"And Bonfire is plenty quick. I only need $750. You could have the rest. What do ya think?"   
  
Vin's eyes shone and he smiled. "I think you just got yourself a rider."  
  
The End: Part 3  
I swear, only one more part to go. Please give me feedback. Positive, negative, I just want to know what you think.  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. The Race

Title: A Different Breed of Woman 4/4  
Warnings: Language, some violence  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not making any money so don't sue, please.  
Author's Note: This is the conclusion of my story, A DIFFERENT BREED OF WOMAN. The Samantha character is mine, as well as her two horses, but feel free to use them. Thanks to those who came up with the names of the Seven's horses. And, enjoy.  
  
  
  
"Keep your weight off that horse's back Tanner!" A sharp female voice called. Her wide hazel eyes watched the bay horse and his buckskin clad rider for a few more seconds before waving them to her. "Vin," she said with all the patience she could muster, "you're getting in his way. This isn't Peso, and you're not on patrol. You're riding in a race. You must stay off his back."  
  
"Aren't these stirrups a little short?" Vin questioned the woman on the steel gray stallion next to him.  
  
Samantha Hunter rolled her eyes. "No," she seethed; irritated by the fact that he had asked the same question minutes earlier. "Like I said before, it's easier to stay balanced over the horse's withers if your stirrups are a little shorter."  
  
Vin sighed, frustrated as well. "I'm sorry, I just feel like I'm going to fall right out of this tiny saddle."  
  
Samantha had to admit that the lanky gunslinger did look peculiar riding in her small English saddle. "You're a good rider Vin, you're not going to fall off. I'd let you use my saddle, but it doesn't fit Bonfire." Samantha patted her worn custom saddle with the deep seat and high pommel. "Now try again. Take him out for a lap at a lope."  
  
Vin did as he was instructed, pressing the bay gelding into an easy canter. This time, Vin managed to stay over Bonfire's withers, but had to hang on his reins to do so. Bonfire looked like a chess piece: his ears flattened, his neck curled tight and his mouth open. Samantha sighed. "It's only been a day. He will get this by tomorrow," she assured herself.  
  
"Ease up on his mouth Vin! You want to rate him, not choke him!" Samantha almost growled. Normally the most patient of teachers, the stress of the past week had begun to take its toll on Sam's easy going personality. She watched as Bonfire let out an angry buck. "All right, come on back."  
  
Both horse and rider looked irritated as they walked back. Vin scowled and Bonfire swished his tail back and forth. Samantha took a deep breath. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. First of all, loosen your reins by about four inches. Now relax. I think I've been making this seem too difficult." Vin did as she asked and both he and the bay visibly calmed.  
  
"You have great natural balance Vin, let it work for you. Ride him like you would any horse. He's got a real soft mouth so you really just need to touch his mouth to get him to slow. When you feel comfortable, let him out into a gallop. Not far mind you, we need to keep them fresh for tomorrow."  
  
"You're worse than a drill sergeant."   
"I may not understand everything that goes on in my life Vin, but trust that I know this. Just ride."  
  
Vin eyed her like she was nuts, but did as she asked. He took a few deep breaths, as he would before taking aim with his rifle. He closed his eyes and felt the wind slide over him. Suddenly he felt in control, centered on his mount. He clucked to the bay and they raced down the field. Vin's hands were light and he stayed up off the saddle. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. He grinned. "Huh, what do you know."   
  
Samantha clapped as they drew near. "I knew you could do it!" She called out. "Now let's go ride the course and make our plan." The two left the training field and headed toward the trail that had been marked earlier that week.  
  
The first annual Four Corner's Summer Race had brought a lot of excitement to the dusty, Colorado frontier town. Not least of which came in the form of Samantha Hunter and her two racehorses, Bonfire and Chance. Ever since they had stepped off the stage Sam and her alter ego, Joseph Hunter had been the source of much controversy.   
  
Two days earlier, Samantha's jockey and friend Jose had been gunned down while scouting the course. He had been killed instantly. Then Sam had been attacked at the livery. Vin had also discovered that her husband, Joseph Hunter didn't exist at all, except as to allow Sam to ride her fiery gray stallion. Her one true confidant in town, Sam had asked the tracker to replace Jose as Bonfire's rider. He had accepted, although, not without hesitation.  
  
They walked the course slowly, carefully searching every portion of the course. Sam pointed out places that could be used to pass and places in the trail ideal for blocking oncoming competitors. Vin pointed out rough spots in the trail where the riders would have to be careful. Samantha also filled him in on how she wanted Bonfire to run.  
  
"Don't even think about me for the first lap and a half. I'll have Chance pretty far back. You and Bonfire try and stay up three or four from the lead. He rates real nice anywhere you put him. My hope is that someone is going to try to press the pace. By now everyone knows what kind of a kick Bonfire has. If the pace is too easy, he should have enough left at the end of the race to bring you in nice and easy. I think the only horse that could possibly beat him in an all out sprint is Chance, if he got the perfect break. Your job is to conserve as much energy as possible and make your move a quarter mile from the finish. Try to take the first lap in four or so, but don't let the leaders get too far in front."  
  
"Oh," Vin scoffed, "no problem. What you're saying is that I have to go fast, but not too fast. And that I have to let the others get ahead of me, but not by too much. Right?"  
  
Samantha laughed. "Yeah I guess that's about it."  
  
"And you will be where during all this?"  
  
"If all goes to plan, we'll be comin like a freight train the last three quarters of a mile. Of course it is racing, and racing luck does come into it. Ride like you feel you should and you'll be fine. Watch Thunder though. I've got a feeling they're not below stretching the rules a bit." Vin nodded tightly, absorbing the information.  
  
The rode quietly up to the trickiest portion of the course, where it wound up through the Ridge canyon just west of town. This was where Jose had been shot. Samantha stiffened and got visibly pale. Her eyes darted to the high walls to either side of her.  
  
"You all right?"  
  
"Yeah, I will be. Just got the image of putting Jose in the ground is all. Let's get out of here." The trotted their horses up an incline that led out of the canyon to the top of the ridge. At the summit, the trail veered off in two directions. The trail to the right was the one that the riders would use the next day. It had a shallow slope that wound to the floor easily enough for the horses to canter down. The pass to the left was more like a break in the rock than a trail. It was so steep it was almost straight down, loose rock covering the entire surface. She shuddered at the thought of riding down it, although it did cut down the distance into town considerably. Still not worth the risk, she thought.  
  
"Got all this straight?" She asked Vin, trying to clear her mind of Jose's image. They had buried him earlier that day. Sam had stayed near the back of the small crowd. Jerry Weston, her foreman had also been there, as well as Vin and the rest of the Seven.  
  
"Yep." The tracker replied.  
  
"Good. Now let's get back and give these two and ourselves some rest. We'll need it for tomorrow."  
  
That night Sam put on a show of Joseph arriving back in town. She dressed in men's clothes, glued on her mustache and sideburns and taken off the long hairpiece that looked like a ponytail. Then she went down to the saloon and took a few drinks. She even played a few hands of poker, being sure to avoid Ezra, the sarcastic southern con man. She had managed to avoid him for nearly two days.  
  
'Joseph' played a few hands with Buck and JD, quickly relieving them of their money. JD glanced over at Buck. "He's almost as bad as Ezra." Sam smiled to herself.  
  
"Hell JD, he's almost as good as his wife!" The two friends snickered, remembering how Samantha had beaten Ezra out of a large pot a few days earlier. That was a feat, they figured, worth remembering. Joseph talked with them for a few hours, relaxing in their company. Ezra walked over later that evening, a deck of cards in his hands.  
  
"Would you care to partake in a game of chance?" The southerner asked.  
  
"No thanks. Sam told me about you and I figure I'm better off without taking the risk. I'm not the card player my wife is."  
  
Ezra's face remained impassive, but his voice betrayed his true emotions. It was barely perceptible, even to those that knew the gambler, but he sounded almost, wistful. "Yes. Your wife is truly... exceptional. Where is she now? I haven't spoken to her in a few days."  
That's because I've been avoiding you, Samantha thought to herself. "She up in our room, asleep. Been a long day, what with Jose and all."  
  
"Of course. Well, seeing as I can't relieve you gentlemen of any winnings I will be bidding you good night." With a last, suspicious glance in Joseph's direction, Ezra went upstairs. He waited for a few minutes, making sure that no one was following him, and then crept down the hall to Sam's room. He tested the door, but it was locked. Not that it discouraged him in the least, for he deftly picked the lock and went inside.  
  
Meanwhile, Samantha was blissfully unaware of the two sets of eyes trained on her. "That him?" A tall man in a suit asked.  
  
"Yep. You have the money?" A dirty faced, husky man asked.  
  
"Half now, half when you finish the job. Make sure he doesn't finish the race." Then the man in the suit left.  
  
Ezra opened the door to Sam's room and half expected himself to be more surprised when he saw the empty bed. He spotted her suitcase near the trunk and hefted it onto the mattress. He opened it, only to find different assortments of shirts, pants and skirts. He was about to close it when he had a thought. Running his fingers down the edge of the bag he found what he was looking for. The false bottom dropped easily away to reveal the long shiny mass of coppery hair.  
  
"Seems like you've been keeping a secret Miss Hunter," he murmured. "Good to know." Quickly and efficiently he placed the contents of the satchel where he had found them. Then he placed the bag at the foot of the bed and made his way to the door. He made sure to lock it behind him.  
  
Fifteen riders lined up at the starting line the next morning. They filled up the street. People scurried to find the best place to watch. Chris positioned himself by the start/finish line, between Orrin Travis and a man in a suit that looked vaguely familiar. Travis called everyone to attention. "All right everyone settle down. Thanks for all who showed up to participate and all who came just to watch. Four Corner's first annual...."  
  
Samantha stopped listening after that. She pushed the black Stetson away from her eyes. The binding surrounding her chest was snug, but not so snug that it was debilitating. She was dressed somberly in black pants and a dark green shirt as a sign of mourning.   
  
Chance was eager to be off and it took a lot to keep him in line with the other horses. She glanced down the line of riders to either side of her. Vin was three horses to her right, looking intensely competitive. Ezra was on her left, he and his chestnut starting the line. Thunder and his rider, Mark were directly to her right. The black stud pinned his ears at Chance and snapped at the gray, only to narrowly miss being bitten himself. Buck and JD were somewhere in the throng, but Sam had no time to look, because Travis fired the pistol into the air, signifying the start of the race. All fifteen horses surged forward, like a huge multicolored wave.  
  
The horse raced down Main Street in a tight bunch, everyone fighting for position early. Samantha eased Chance back, content to let the others run their race early. They still had a long way to go. The race covered four miles over rough country and two circuits of the course. She had plenty of time.  
  
From her position at the back of the pack she could see everything. Three horses from the lead ran Bonfire, Vin sitting still and not rushing. JD ran second, letting Seven stretch. She knew that if he kept his pace that fast, they would be finished soon. Another man on a chunky Palomino was first, whipping his horse to his utmost speed. She thought she caught a glimpse of Ezra's red jacket somewhere mid-pack, but she wasn't sure. Buck and Clyde were a few horses ahead of her and to her right.  
  
The racers headed into one of the most treacherous sections of the course. The ground was uneven and the path narrow, almost inviting an accident. Sam was so caught up looking where Chance was going that she didn't even notice Thunder's rider edging the giant black horse back to race beside her. Samantha glanced sharply to her right. Mark grinned evilly and pulled on his left rein. Thunder moved obediently left.   
  
Sam was forced to check Chance severely to avoid being hit. The gray stallion wringed his neck, but his stride shortened. Mark eased Thunder back to match strides once more. He veered left again, but this time Sam couldn't avoid him. Angry Chance lunged for the black and the two collided midstride. Miraculously Thunder raced on, almost as if the bumping had not taken place at all.  
  
Chance was not so lucky. The gray stumbled and nearly went down on his knees. Sam came very close to being pitched over the front of her saddle. Only a handful of Chance's mane saved her. Finally the gray got his feet back under him. He tried to rush after the departing horses. "Easy, easy." Sam soothed. She looked over his shoulder at his legs, and thanked God that they appeared undamaged. She trotted the gray in a tight circle.  
  
"Okay bud. Let's get that son of a bitch. Hyaa!" Chance took off after the pack, sensing that they were leaving him behind, even thought they had disappeared around a corner. They entered the canyon at a gallop, but still the other racers were not in sight. His hoof beats echoed, bouncing against the canyon walls. Then there was another sound; a bang and a ping as a bullet bounced off a rock to her left. There was another shot, then another.  
  
Sam swore and hunched closer to Chance's neck. The gray flattened out and flew up the slope to the top of the ridge. Amazingly, they were not hit. At the top Sam steered Chance to the trail on the right. But she stopped when she saw a man with a rifle coming from that direction. They were trapped.   
  
Sam's eyes traveled to the steep, rocky slope to her left. It was their only chance. She pulled Chance around to the left, sighting the riders coming around the ridge and heading back toward Four Corners. No one had heard the gunshots. A final shot rang out just as they slipped over the edge. This time the bullet found its mark, imbedding itself deep in Sam leg. She cried out and pulled sharply on the left rein. Chance reared, twisting in the air and landing off balance on the slope.  
  
All semblance of balance gone, Chance reared again and started to slide down the hill. By some amazing miracle, Chance kept his hooves in front of him. The two half slid, half scrambled down the hillside. At the bottom of the knoll, Chance gathered himself and took off for Four Corners with no urging from Sam. She was too busy righting herself in her saddle.  
  
Less than a minute later, the first rider flew through the finish line for the first time. JD, containing his exuberance, had pulled Seven back into fifth. Vin remained in fourth, while Thunder steadily began to move up. Ezra was still mid-pack. Three riders pulled up, including Buck. Chris walked over to his oldest friend. Buck was panting as he dismounted and his face showed disappointment.  
  
"Threw a shoe," he explained. "Too bad too. He was running real nice."  
  
"Too bad is right Buck. But at least he ain't hurt."  
  
"Yeah. Where is everybody else?"  
  
"Vin's in third. JD is fourth and Ezra is..." he shrugged, "somewhere."  
  
"What about Joseph and Chance? They took a bad hit or two near the ridge and then I lost sight of 'em."  
  
"They haven't been through yet Buck." He peered down the street. "There, here they come now."  
  
The two men watched as Chanced flew through town, his rider hugging his neck like a vice. They had more than thirty lengths to make up on the rest of the field. "I know Joseph wanted to be far back, but that's ridiculous!" Buck crowed. "He'll never catch them."  
  
Chris barely heard his friend. His eyes narrowed. Thunder's owner appeared at the side of the street his face red from exertion. His eyes shifted nervously and he wiped the sweat from his brow. Chris watched the man for a moment, then dismissed it. "Two miles left to run Buck. A lot can happen in two miles...."  
  
Sam felt light headed. Chance raced on with no aid from her. She knew the only reason she wasn't in intense pain was the fact that her body was pumped full of adrenaline. "Come on Chance. Keep it up. We're catchin up." It was true. They caught the last racer at the beginning of the canyon. The rider on a paint made no effort to urge his horse to greater speeds.   
  
They were in the middle of the pack coming down off the ridge. Chance was giving it everything he had. She felt the stallion stretch further, his muscles stressed to their utmost capacity. He had been running at top speed for more than half a mile, with a half mile left to run. There would be no place to ease up and catch a breath. The only hope they had was to run at top speed the rest of the way. Samantha only hoped Chance could do it.  
  
She could see Four Corners in the distance. Chance broke through to the front of the pack and kept going. There were only four horses in front of them now. JD and Ezra were now both in top gear as they flew across the flatlands. Two lengths beyond them ran Thunder and Bonfire. The smaller bay was leveled out, running as fast as could to match strides.   
  
Chance began to creep up on Seven and Chaucer. First he was at their flank, the horses' tails whipping back. Then Chance's nose drew even with their saddles and finally they were racing head and head. They were less than an eighth of a mile from the finish now. Chaucer gamely tried to keep pace with the gray, only managing to do so for a few strides before dropping back.   
  
She and Chance drew even with the Bonfire and Thunder as they entered the town's limits. Bonfire was spent and Vin knew it. They started to drop back. Then it was only the gray and the black. Mark whipped his horse while Sam remained still. Chance was giving it everything he had. He was flying. People in the crowd talked about that drive for the finish for months afterward. Some said the gray sprouted wings before their very eyes. Others said that had you stood close enough, you would have been picked up and carried along in their wake. All Sam knew was that somewhere, somehow, Chance found a little more, dug a little deeper. And it was they who flew across the line first, the winners by half a length.  
  
Chance dropped out of his gallop almost immediately. Sam rested her hands on his shoulders. His muscles quivered with exhaustion and his coat was nearly white with lather. His sides heaved and his nostrils were red. Yet his head remained high, a triumphant look in his eyes.  
  
Judge Travis pushed his way through the throng that surrounded horse and rider. The older man reached up to shake Sam's hand. She took it. Buck pushed his way through as well, followed by Chris. JD, Vin and Ezra hung near the back of the crowd on their horses. Vin nodded to her.  
  
"Well looks like you pulled it off boy!" Buck called out, grinning wildly. "Good job!" He slapped her knee. A look of sure agony flitted across her features. She groaned and her hands went slack on the reins. Buck looked at his palm and stared dumbly at the dark red blood. Chris's smile froze and dropped from his face.  
  
"Nathan!" The black clad leader cried. He shoved everyone out of the way. Sam saw spots floating in front of her eyes. Her head spun. Then she dropped from Chance's back into Bucks arms....  
  
She groaned. Sam's eyelids felt heavy. A stream of sunlight hit them and made her head ache. "Looks like someone has finally decided to join us." A soft voice played on her ears, but she couldn't place it. She forced herself to open her eyes.  
  
Nathan's smiling face greeted her. "Afternoon. How are ya feelin?"   
  
Sam tried to sit up, but with the sharp flash of pain shooting up her leg she thought better of it. "How's Chance," she managed to croak.  
  
"He's fine. Real tired, but fine. JD and Vin took care of him after you collapsed. Here, take some water." The cool liquid felt like heaven as it soothed her parched throat and dry mouth.  
  
"How long was I out?"  
  
"It's noon on Sunday."  
  
Sam moaned again and brought her hand to her face. She realized that the bushy feeling of her mustache was not there. She eyed Nathan suspiciously between her fingers. A look of amusement crossed the healer's face. "So you finally noticed."  
  
She felt herself flush. "So you know?"  
  
"It's kind of hard to miss. Especially when your mustache falls off." Nathan grinned and handed her the thin attachment. Sam took it warily.  
  
"Do the others know?"  
  
Nathan shrugged. "Not my place to tell them. I figure I know why you did it anyway. Chance is one hell of a horse."  
  
A small smile crossed her lips. "That he is. That he is."  
  
"Not like you can hide it forever though. Admittedly we've all been kind of busy lately getting set for the race, but once all the people leave we'll get back to normal. We ain't stupid you know, just preoccupied as of late. I'm pretty sure one or all of us are goin to notice you and your," he grunted, "husband limpin around on the same leg. Am I the only one?"  
  
"Nope. Vin knows, and I'm pretty sure Ezra does too."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised. But do give us some credit. I think everyone would be more understanding than you think." There was a knock at the door. "Should I let them in?"  
  
Sam fumbled with the mustache momentarily and then stuck it to her face. She only hoped it wasn't too crooked. The six other men poured into the room.   
  
"Hey Joseph. How ya feelin?" JD asked, sitting heavily at the edge of the bed. Sam grimaced as the movement sent another wave of pain through her leg.  
  
"Like hell." She responded darkly. "Do ya'll know what happened?"  
  
Chris stepped forward. "It seems some people weren't too happy with you buyin up the Johansson ranch. Mr. Prescott specifically."  
  
Ezra interrupted. "It seems the parcel of land that you purchased was very highly valued as grazing acerage. Mr. Tanner brought this to our attention when he spoke of the cattle grazing on your property. I assume you have been meaning to fence off your fields?"  
  
"You assume correctly."  
  
"Well, in checking with Ms. Travis at the Clarion offices, she informed us that Prescott had been making inquiries into purchasing the Johansson land. Unfortunately for him, the week he went out of town was the week you showed up, cash in hand. He's been after you for that land ever since. Do you recall any proposals to buy your parcel at an inflated price?"  
  
"Vaguely, but I turned him down."  
  
"Anyway," Buck continued the story, " that didn't sit too well with him. He hired Thunder's owner and rider to make it so you failed to finish the race. Somehow he knew you needed the money to finish payin off the farm."  
  
"And how did you come to the conclusion that Thunder's owner was involved at all?"  
  
"A few things," Vin informed her quietly. "Chris noticed Jim arrived late at the finish and was kinda out of breath and nervous. Plus Ez and I walked in on the two of them arguing over the rest of the money. Prescott didn't want to pay Jim for a job half finished. We listened in just long enough to find out what we needed and then busted in on them."  
  
"We found a sniper rifle wrapped in paper in one of Thunder's tack trunks. Same caliber slug Mr. Jackson removed from your femur. No one ever said you had to be intelligent to be a criminal. Needless to say all three are now in our fair town's quaint jail accommodations. Mark even signed a confession."  
  
"So I guess that's about it." Chris finished. The five gunslingers that had come to visit stood to leave.  
  
Sam's heart began to race. "Not quite." She called out. Everyone turned to stare at Joseph. "I have a small confession to make." Now everyone was really paying attention. Nathan nodded encouragingly.  
  
"I have lied to you. I am not who I said I was. And I feel I owe you all an...explanation."  
  
"Well then spill it," Buck prompted.  
  
Slowly, Sam reached up to her lip and peeled away her sideburns. Then she took off the mustache. "Hi."  
  
"Samantha!" Buck cried.  
  
"Hey Buck." She looked at each man's face, gauging their reactions. Vin just looked pleased and smiled to her. Ezra didn't look at all surprised. JD appeared to be in shock, his mouth hanging open. Chris' face revealed nothing, but there was no disapproval in his eyes, no resentment. Buck looked anywhere from shocked, to thrilled to angry.  
  
"You could have gotten yourself killed! Racin is no place for a woman!"  
  
"Bested you didn't I? Pompous, over grown child," she muttered darkly.  
  
"She is correct Buck. Don't argue with the lady." Ezra's eyes danced.  
  
"Perhaps we should just start again," Larabee's quiet, commanding voice took over. He held out his hand to Sam. "Hello, the name's Chris Larabee. These are Ezra, Buck, Vin, JD, and it seems you have met Nathan."  
  
Chris shook the battle scarred hand. "Name's Samantha Hunter. Good to meet you all."  
  
Nathan let the group speak for a few more minutes until he noticed that Sam fought to keep her eyes open. "All right, visiting hours are over. Samantha needs her rest. Now get."  
  
Samantha closed her eyes and sighed.  
"The day is done,   
the battle won.  
The blood that spilled,  
is dry and still.  
The lines were made  
The bruises fade.  
But wounds that bled  
Leave scars in their stead."  
  
No one had to say anything. They all knew what she meant.  
  
THE END  
  
Please tell me what you thought! If you want more like this tell me. Maybe in the ATF? Hope you enjoyed it.  
  



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